


From Now On

by UpsideAround



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Magical Realism, show biz, the greatest showman au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-14 10:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13587717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UpsideAround/pseuds/UpsideAround
Summary: It’s hard to wake up from a dreary routine, but when Lup’s job fell out from under her, she was electrified with an idea. Something that was worthwhile, something that feltreal.The only tricky part was finding people willing to show off everything that made them “weird”, out in the open, vulnerable to criticism.But if she could do it, by God, she’d have the show of the century.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And I’m back with another big idea! This is probably gonna end up being my most difficult writing challenge, but I’m excited to take it on!
> 
> We begin with a prologue-esque chapter
> 
> No knowledge of The Greatest Showman required :)

_The woman with the needles and yarn stood in front of a table, pleading her case for the future._

_“The universe must be kept in balance. You can’t just ask for things.”_

_“All I’m asking for is a chance to stop the future before it happens,” she said. “We’re not past the point of no return.”_

_One of the figures sitting at the table sighed and raised an arm. “Their mission embarks next week. Their fate is already in motion.”_

_“Please. I’m asking for a chance.”_

_The committee erupted into chaos. The gods around the table all began talking at once, some outraged even at the notion of changing this much. Some were purely fearful of what the future held, and the revelation being brought before them on this day._

_The chairperson at the table stood up. “You do realize they’re still going to make the same decision, right? Regardless of the time or place, they will face a decision, and they must make the one that holds this timeline intact. Is this a wager you’re willing to make?”_

_The woman nodded. “I have absolute faith in my emissaries.”_

_The chairperson signed and sat back down. “I hope they choose joy.”_

_And the clock turned back._

 

* * *

 

It was Lup’s favorite house to visit.

They were rich beyond belief, gold covered everything that gold could possibly cover. The house entrance was grand and glorious; a huge archway made of the heftiest stone with a solid oak door in front.

Lup liked the way her ragged shoes felt on the ornate marble floors.

Following her artisan master around, she didn’t have to do much except hold pins and sections of cloth while Mr. Goldhem got a new custom-made suit. She was supposed to be watching and learning from her artisan master—Avi was the best in town and he was keeping her fed and clothed, after all—but watching the little boy learn to count coins was far more interesting.

He was only a little taller than she was, about four and a half feet tall, and Lup vowed that one day she would pass him up, and finally be the taller one.

She enjoyed trying to get him to break concentration as he practiced his numbers. This included making increasingly strange faces in his direction while maintaining unwavering eye contact.

Avi disapproved, but he was currently busy getting Mr. Goldhem’s measurements. He didn’t have to know.

Lup screwed up her face into a pucker and crossed her eyes.

The boy snorted, and Lup relaxed into a grin.

Her grin widened when the boy turned back to his coins and his eyes widened. He looked between her and the coins, jaw dropped.

“How much money have you got?” Mr. Goldhem called toward the boy.

The boy looked up. “I, um, I lost count.”

“You lost count? Well, count them again, and it’ll be extra chores tonight if you keep slipping up like this.”

The grin fell off Lup’s face. “Sir, it was my fault, I distracted him,” she said, turning toward Mr. Goldhem and Avi.

“Did you now?” Mr. Goldhem said, not looking down at Lup. “I don’t care. My son shouldn’t be getting distracted in the first place.”

Lup looked over to the boy, who had his face buried in the coins. He refused to look up as he slid the coins around, counting to himself.

Mr. Goldhem didn’t know, but whenever the grown-ups discussed pricing, she and the boy would sneak outside and compare heights. They had a tree in the woods they carved their height into as they grew, and sometimes they hid in the woods for hours before Mr. Goldhem came looking.

“My name’s Barold,” he told her one afternoon. He made a face. “I hate it. It’s an old-person name.”

Lup paused thoughtfully. “How ‘bout if I call you Barry?”

Barry grinned. “They would hate it.”

“I know, that’s what makes it so great.”

“Meet the new me: Barry Goldhem!” Barry jumped up, and immediately slipped on the slick mud and fell on his back.

Lup laughed and pointed at Barry’s casual-wear pants, now completely covered in muck. “More like Barry Mudpants.”

Barry groaned, still laying in the mud. “Hey, I had to beg my mom for months to get these jeans.”

“I wasn’t the one who fell,” Lup said, grinning.

“They’re ruined!”

Lup snorted and held a hand toward Barry to help him up. “Barry Bluejeans, then, if it means that much to you.”

Lup’s visits to the grand house were few and far between, as they only came whenever Mr. Goldhem needed a suit fixed, or a new suit made.

As soon as Lup learned about addresses and letters, she was writing to Barry every month. Sometimes they’d make plans to sneak outside on Lup’s next visit.

They would always sneak out to the same spot. There was a clearing in the forest behind Barry’s house that was locked away from the outside world. Locked away from the world that told Lup she was too dirty to be holding Barry’s hand. Locked away from Barry’s parents.

It was here they’d stare up at the clouds, and Lup would point out all the shapes she found in the sky.

Lup wove stories of wonder and magic in the skies, stories of adventure and excitement, and Barry always brought the stories back to home.

Lup loved making Barry laugh with the story of the train and the smelly hands. Barry somehow managed to make it more than an adventure. Together, they wrote stories that spanned the universe.

They played adventurers—imagining fighting off dark monsters that threatened their world, but they always came out on top.

Lup had a good life.

And then, the Goldhem family stopped asking for their services. Lup’s master artisan needed to go back to the house to drop off one last suit, and she begged him to let her come with him this time.

They reached the door, and Lup realized it felt too tall. Formidable.

The door swung open, and Mr. Goldhem was standing there, Barry standing behind him.

Lup’s heart dropped through the floor when she saw the bags he was carrying.

“Oh, now where are you going to, young man?” Avi said, bending down to face Barry at eye level.

Mr. Goldhem stiffened. “He’s going away to boarding school for awhile.”

Lup stared at Barry, fearful.

Barry looked back to Lup. She watched him take a deep breath and keep a still face. He smiled ever-so slightly before turning his gaze to his feet.

Lup still ran after his carriage as it rattled down the road.

One month later, she got a letter.

 _Dear Lup_ , it read. _The clouds are different here. I wish you could see them, you would know what they were telling me._

Lup didn’t even finish reading before she was writing back.

_Barry,_

_It’s easy to read the clouds. Just look up and let your imagination run._

Barry wrote her when his lessons were boring him, or when when his lessons got exciting and interesting. Barry wrote her when he got frustrated with his classmates. Barry wrote her when he found an interesting story that he needed to share, regardless of if it was true or not.

Lup wrote to Barry when Avi started getting weaker, and she had to learn how to tailor. Lup wrote to Barry when she had to start stealing her dinner because they weren’t making enough money to buy it properly. Lup wrote to Barry when Avi died and she started fending for herself.

Lup hit rock bottom when she was so weak with hunger that she couldn’t outrun the salesman she stole what would have been her dinner from. He chased her down the street and into an alley, where he cornered her and ripped the bread from her hands.

Lup sat in that alley, too tired and weak to do anything but watch the people in the street walk by.

She was so delirious that she saw a version of herself in that market; a version of herself that wasn’t dressed in rags and could spend a spare silver on fresh meat and spices.

She made eye contact with the elf that was a mirror reflection of herself for a moment before she blinked and lost sight of the figure.

In that alley, she was saved by a man whose face was completely covered in hair. He didn’t speak, but he gave her food and a blanket for the night.

She wrote Barry about the whole thing.

They grew up together, a continent apart, but connected by the stars and clouds in the sky.

Lup was working a job she hated—manual labor, no imagination required—but after twenty years she finally had enough saved to get a small apartment.

She counted her gold once, then twice, then let out a shout of joy as she jumped up. She knew she wanted to do two things, then: one, get the apartment, and two, buy herself a good change of clothes. Both of which she did immediately that afternoon.

She stepped out of the shop, in a fresh pair of shoes and dark blue outfit. She adjusted the eccentric hat on her head and hailed a driver.

She held her head high, now, as she walked down the driveway toward the grand house she admired as a kid.

She wasn’t afraid of the archway as she stepped toward and knocked on the door.

Mr. Goldhem stood in front of Lup. “You,” he said.

“Me,” Lup said, grinning. “I’m here to see your son.”

Mr. Goldhem looked behind him and then back to Lup. “He’s not here.”

Lup opened her mouth to protest, but another voice rang out from behind Mr. Goldhem.

“You’ve got me confused,” Barry said. “See, I was thinking that I was here, but I must’ve been mistaken. That does tend to happen sometimes.”

Barry maneuvered around his father and finally, finally stood in front of Lup.

Lup grinned. “I’m taller than you.”

Barry took her hand. “Only by a little.”

Lup turned and started to walk down the stairs, Barry by her side.

“She won’t keep you happy forever, Barold,” Mr. Goldhem called after them as they ran down the stairs, hand in hand.

Seven years later, and he was still wrong.

Seven years later, they only made enough money to get by, but they had an apartment on the top floor and they were happy.

The days were long and grueling, but every night Lup came back to a home. She learned how to make her own food, and she and Barry spent many nights in their kitchen, baking in the light of each other.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I have edited the standard lore somewhat, which is mentioned a few times in this chapter. The important thing to note is that all races mature at the same rate, comparable to the human maturation rate.
> 
> also, this is set in a historical setting, but I'm not going to worry about historical accuracy too much, because this is an alternate universe that I pick out, we don't need fantasy racism or old-timey dialogue. Plus, I think some of the magic of these characters comes from their unique syntax, which is hard to capture with historical dialogue.

Lup sighed and punched another number into the calculator.

It took all of her willpower not to collapse onto the desk.

Two years ago, she thought her promotion to office work was a blessing. No more ripped and sweaty clothing that she had to spend time and money repairing.

Now, she spent her days bored out of her mind, in a cramped space where she couldn’t even see the sky.

The highlight of every day was walking past the gnome unicycler on her route to work. His fuzzy red hair and short stature was really what made his act amusing. She was always annoyed when she didn’t have extra change to toss into his hat.

The joy of that always faded within the first hour of mundane number-punching.

“Lup!”

Lup jerked up. Leon stood in front of her. She gave a tiny wave.

“My office, please.”

Lup sighed and followed him to his office.

“Is this about the Jell-O problem? I promise that I had nothing to do with that,” Lup said.

“The Jell-O pr—I don’t want to know,” Leon said as he sat behind his desk. “No, this is about something else entirely. Please sit down.”

Lup lowered herself slowly into the chair in front of the desk.

“Do you recognize this?” Leon said, lifting up a paper off of his desk. “This is the lease of twelve new cargo boats. It’s curious, you see, because this has my signature on it, yet I don’t remember signing.”

“You’re right, that is curious.”

Leon narrowed his eyes. “Cut the crap. You’re the one that’s been pushing for us to expand our business beyond what we could possibly support, even though you shouldn’t be concerned beyond the papers I put on your desk.”

Lup leaned forward. “Even if I was the person who forged your signature—done so very elegantly, I might add—that doesn’t mean you should pass up such a wonderful business opportunity.”

Leon scoffed. “It was a stupid mistake, one that’s going to cause this company to sink.”

“God, you don’t know what’s good for you when it’s staring you in the face,” Lup snapped, throwing her hands up.

“That isn’t your job. That’s my job. You’re paid to sit at your desk and perform simple calculations. If you can’t handle that, I can always find somebody else. You’re replaceable, simple as that.”

Leon’s mouth kept moving, going on about how Lup needed to let it go, but Lup wasn’t hearing anything. A rush filled her ears, and she felt a hot stone drop into her stomach. She was the most valuable person at this company, Leon was just too stupid to see it.

Lup stood up. “I quit.”

Leon paused. “What?”

“You heard me. If I’m so replaceable, you should be able to replace me just fine. I quit.”

Lup turned on her heel and and left Leon behind, ignoring his indignant splutterings.

—

Lup tossed some mushrooms into the frying pan. The savory fragrances floated up to her nose, but they did little to soothe the tight knot in her stomach.

She sighed and stirred the mushrooms, letting the sizzling drown out all other noises. The satisfaction of quitting had long since disappeared, and Lup was staring the consequences square in the face.

“I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to afford this,” Lup said, finally looking up at Barry, who was placing dishes onto the table.

Barry set down the plate he was holding. “Why?”

Lup sighed and leaned back against the counter. “I can’t work for Leon, not after what he said to me today.”

“What’d he say?”

“‘You’re fired’,” Lup said, forcing a grin that felt more like a grimace.

Barry exhaled gently, a smile passing briefly over his face. “That doesn’t have to be the end of the world. We have this place, we have enough to get by.”

“Will we always have enough to get by? What if that’s not enough anymore?”

“I have enough,” Barry said, walking around the table and toward Lup. “I have you,” he said, grinning and tugging the spatula out of Lup’s hands. “Even if you’re gonna outlive me by a century.”

“Aw, babe, you act like my rugged, reckless, nature isn’t gonna win you at least a decade over me.”

Barry smiled. “It wouldn’t be winning without you. My father can complain about elven lifespans all he wants. ”

“Babe, I love you more than anything, but look at this place,” Lup said, gesturing around at the bare walls of their apartment. “This isn’t the life I promised you. We were gonna run off together and we were gonna learn magic. We were supposed to light up the world, and I—”

“Lup, I don’t know what to say,” Barry said, moving closer and putting his hands on Lup’s hips. “I’m happy. We’re all the magic I need.”

Lup sighed and met Barry’s eyes. She smiled softly before exhaling and looking away. “I just feel like I’m missing something.”

Barry was quiet for a moment.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said. “You always do.”

Barry pulled Lup closer, and Lup found herself relaxing into a hug. Her chin rested on Barry’s shoulder as he rubbed her back gently.

“God, you’ve got no right to be this good at this,” Lup murmured.

“I learned from the best,” Barry said.

The only thing Lup could do was  hold him tighter.

“Did you really get fired?” Barry asked after a moment. “I can’t picture you letting them have the last word like that.”

Lup found herself smiling at that. “Well, no, I quit. But the joke worked best if I said I was fired.”

Lup felt Barry grinning. “That’s the Lup I know,” he said.

—

The next day, Lup was home alone for the first time in seven years, and she was bored out of her mind.

For the first twenty minutes, Lup thought she could entertain herself by doing some much-needed home cleaning and repair, but once the kitchen floor was clean and the leaky faucet was fixed, Lup was back to being bored.

She paced the house for awhile, running her hands through her hair.

She took a bath, but it wasn’t long before the water went cold. So instead, she sat in the bathroom, wrapped in a towel.

She spent some time playing tic-tac-toe against herself. She didn’t win.

Eventually, Lup ended up sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the stove. She was unfocusing and refocusing her vision, watching the stove fade in and out.

Lup jerked up. Why didn’t she bake? It’d been so long since she’d had time to put something into the oven.

She jumped out of her seat and practically vaulted over the table. Her foot snagged on the edge of the table, but she slid off the other side and landed on her feet, halfway graceful. She ran to the cabinets and started pulling out the materials she’d need. Pots, pans, baking dishes, spoons, mixing bowls all started cluttering the counters.

Lup straightened up, put her hands on the hips, nodded to herself, then turned around and flung the pantry open.

She reached for the flour and her face fell. The container was almost empty, with just a tiny amount of flour barely covering the bottom.

She sighed and picked it up. Maybe there’d be enough for a half-batch of something.

Lup snatched up a measuring cup and popped the lid of the container open. She started shaking the flour into the measuring cup, but the moment she started, she knew it was futile.

The flour didn’t even fill up the measuring cup halfway.

Lup deflated and threw the flour back into the container. She put it back in the pantry, sighing as she closed the cabinet. She looked around the kitchen for a moment before walking back to the bedroom. She opened the top drawer of the dresser, and took a quick count of the coins they had. She picked up a few and put them in her pocket.

She walked back down the hallway and picked up her coat, throwing it on as she walked out the door.

The market wasn’t too terribly far away; she could buy some flour, come back, and still have time to make something.

She started down the street, walking at a brisk pace. She dodged the people flying past her— her vision crisply focused on the market at the end of the street.

“I’m telling you, who buys a goddamn museum and doesn’t show up to collect the title?” a man snapped. Lup slowed down, turning slightly to catch sight of whoever was speaking.

She saw two men standing by the fountain. The taller one was dressed in a crisply pressed suit, with a tie that was loosened slightly around his neck. He was carrying a briefcase.

The shorter man standing next to him was a noticeable contrast. He wore a wrinkled jacket paired with crumpled pants, which made the ornate gold watch on his wrist look quite out of place.  

“I dunno boss, but I’m gettin’ tired of waiting,” the shorter man grumbled.  

Lup stopped in her tracks. She paused for a moment before ducking into an alley. She rearranged her outfit, putting her sunglasses on and wrapping her scarf higher up on her neck.

She stepped back into the light of the street and walked toward the pair of men, head held high.

“Sorry I’m late, gentlemen,” she said gruffly, holding out her hand to shake.

The men looked between each other for a moment before the taller one reached out and shook her hand.

“Took ya long enough,” the short one said. “I dunno why you want this junk, anyways.”

Lup shrugged. “That’s for me to deal with.”

“Yeah, I guess,” the short one grumbled. “Say, you got a cold or somethin’? You sound funny.”

Lup pulled her scarf further over her face. “Why do you think I’ve got this scarf on?”

The short man glared at her for a moment before shrugging and turning away. “Let’s just get this done before you infect me.”

“Oh, yes,” the taller man said. He clicked open his briefcase and pulled out a folder. He flipped through it for a moment before handing it to Lup.

“Everything should be there,” he said as Lup riffled through the papers.

It was exactly what they had been describing earlier—the title to a building. The museum down the street, to be exact. It had been dark for years, Lup couldn’t remember a time when people had been interested in actually visiting. She couldn’t recall a closing, but she’d never seen the ticket booth open.

She tucked the folder under her arm. “Pleasure doing business with you,” she said.

The shorter man scoffed. “Sure. This is has been the most inconvenient business transaction of my life, but a 10% commission ain’t so bad.”

“And that will be paid in full, just stop by my office,” Lup said.

“You already paid us,” the shorter one said.

Lup’s heart stopped for a moment. “Well, you’re always welcome at my office. This cold is really taking its toll on my mind, huh? I’ll see you around.”

She spun on the heel of her foot and started walking toward the museum—her museum—down the street.

—

“You did what, now?” Barry exclaimed, running his hands down his face and failing to hide the enormous grin that was spreading across his face.

“I was just minding my own business, when I got the stupid idea that I could impersonate this businessperson they were supposed to be meeting. I didn’t think it would actually work.” Lup said, flopping down onto the couch beside Barry.

“Oh, come on, we both know you don’t do anything unless it’s gonna work,” Barry said, leaning forward and rolling his eyes.

“Okay, fair, but still.” Lup adjusted her feet so she was sitting criss-cross on the couch. “Babe, we own a museum now.”

“I know, what are we gonna do with it?” Barry said, letting his head fall back against the couch.

“I have no idea.”

Lup had no clue what she was going to do with an old, dusty museum; not until she walked past the gnome on the unicycle the next afternoon when the idea dawned on her. She was out and about when she heard the usual ruckus, and decided to stick around for a bit. She stood at the back of the crowd, observing people’s faces, and watching them occasionally toss a coin into the gnome’s hat, set out on the pavement in front of him.

Lup made her way to the front and tossed a coin into his hat. She was failing to hide her grin as she moved back away. She finally had the faintest sliver of an idea.

—

“I’m sorry, how did you get my address?”

Lup grinned. “Don’t worry about it. Listen, I’ve walked past your unicycling for months, now, and I think you’ve got some real talent.”

“They only pay me because it’s amusing to see an gnome juggle,” the gnome said, crossing his arms.

Lup clapped. “Exactly! That’s what I’m banking on. What’s your name, again?”

The gnome paused. “I’m Davenport.”

“Lup. Nice to meet you. Listen—”

“I don’t want to be laughed at so you can turn a profit,” Davenport said, gruff.

Lup shook her head. “I promise, that’s not what this is. I’m offering you an opportunity to be a part of something bigger than you. Something to change the world.”

Silence.

Lup sighed and let her eyes wander around the room. The first thing she noticed was the painting that hung on the wall behind him.

It was a striking piece of artwork—it depicted a huge boat crashing through the ocean, the sails grand and tall. The water was dark and murky, but the ship was colored brilliantly and shone through the darkness. The point of view was almost an underwater view; Lup felt she should be craning her neck to see the top of the ship.

And then she looked around and began to notice other things in the room.

Sailboat in a bottle, sitting on the desk. A painted figurine of a sea captain, set next to it. Another painting hung on the wall to her left, this one a scene of a boat in the docks.

The more she looked, the more she saw.

Lup turned back to Davenport. “Wouldn’t you like to be a captain?”

Davenport cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I know they would never let a gnome become a captain of a legendary vessel, but what if I could make something happen for you in my show? I can see it now—Davenport, the Greatest Captain. You ride in and the crowd goes wild.”

Davenport scoffed. “A gnome sailor on what, a horse? That’s ridiculous.”

Lup scoffed. “No, silly, your unicycle. We can jazz it up, and create some cool effects, so you can really be on the high seas.”

“I—”

Lup clapped. “I’ve got it! What if you were to ride your unicycle over a vat of water?”

Davenport shook his head. “That’s crazy.”

“That’s the point. I want to create something so unbelievable, nobody can look away.” Lup said, leaning forward. “How does that sound to you?”

—

Lup closed the door behind her. Standing in the busy street, she whooped and jumped into the air.

Alight with an energy she hadn’t felt in years, Lup ran all the way home.

The second she was through the door, Lup snatched a pen off the desk and spread a paper on the table. She started with an outline of block letters, then traced the edge of the paper, framing the words on the inside.

She picked up a marker and started filling the block letters in. Her face was nearly level to the table as she pressed the marker to the paper carefully. When her hand started cramping, she shook it out and went right back to her poster.

Finally, Lup picked up her masterpiece and held it in front of herself.

 

**Needed: Odd persons and odd talents**

Missing limbs, weird body ratios, skin defections, the works!

_Performance experience not required _

 

She felt Barry’s arms wrap around her waist as he pressed a kiss onto her shoulder.

“What’ve you got there?” he asked.

“A brilliant idea,” Lup said, grinning from ear to ear.

 

* * *

 

Merle saw the poster at the train station.

_Missing limbs,_ it said.

Merle looked down at his gnarled wooden arm, then at his luggage in the other hand, then back up at the poster.

Was there an address listed?

Sure enough, there was an address written at the bottom. It wasn’t far away, either. The old museum a few blocks away. He knew the building.

He shrugged toward nobody in particular, then started walking in that direction, luggage and all.

Walking into the space, he was expecting an old, dusty, museum. Instead, he saw an enormous space, with a ceiling that arced elegantly. The main flooring had been cleared, creating a stage in the middle of this building. Chairs lined the edges, different levels reaching toward the walls. Sturdy pillars lined the edges of the stage, and Merle had to crane his neck to see the top of them.

On one side of the room, he noticed a beautiful tapestry that was hung on the wall. Despite the dust everywhere, this was clean. He couldn’t make out the images woven into the cloth, but it was vividly colored and set off the whole room.

“Are you gonna stand around looking flabbergasted all day, or are you here to talk to me?”

Merle jumped and spun around. An elf woman was sitting at a table, gesturing for him to sit down.

Merle walked over and sat.

“So,” she said. “Why are you here?”

Merle shrugged. “Your poster requested odd people, and my kids never stop calling me that.”

The elf sighed. “Okay, what makes you odd?”

Merle shrugged and popped his wooden arm off. “Hold this,” he said, handing it to the elf.

She took it.

The wooden hand waved at her.

The elf’s eyes widened. “Are you controlling that thing?”

Merle grinned. “Absolutely.”

She put the arm down on the table. “Okay, you are so in. My name’s Lup.”

“Merle,” he said, moving his wooden arm on the table into a handshake position.

— 

Hurley was doing her best to hide her fidgeting. She was sitting in front of a drop-dead gorgeous elf, and she wasn’t even sure if her “talent” counted for much of anything.

“So,” the elf said, staring Hurley down, “what is it that you do?”

Hurley straightened up. “I race. Well, I go fast. Nobody really likes to compete, it’s pretty dangerous.”

The elf paused thoughtfully. “Do you think you could carve some sick tracks around here?” she said, gesturing around to the arena they were seated in.

“Give me an engine and I can do anything.”

The elf eyed her for a moment, not replying. Hurley forced her body to sit stock-still, her heart hammering in her chest.

And then she laughed and leaned back. “I like your attitude. You’re in.”

 —

 “So what can you do?” The elf said.

Magnus paused for a moment. He looked around, and his eyes finally rested on a piece of scrap wood.

“May I?” He said, reaching to pick it up.

The elf shrugged. “Yeah, sure, go for it.”

Magnus picked it up, held it in both hands, and snapped it in half.

The elf’s jaw dropped. “Yes. Yes. Absolutely yes. You are so in.” 

—

Lucretia normally hated the indoors, but this space wasn’t so bad. It was more of an arena, a stage, and she only had to duck under the door frame when she initially entered.

“You want me to...do what?”

The elf in front of her grinned. “Stilts. You’ve already got the height, but let’s make this really grand.”

Lucretia leaned back. “Are you making fun of me?”

The elf shook her head and leaned forward. “No, that’s the point of my show. I want to take what you have and maximize it to your full potential.” The elf held out a hand to shake. “Whatd’ya say?”

Lucretia stared at the hand for a moment. “And I’m getting paid for this?”

The elf grinned. “Absolutely.” 

—

It was the strangest reaction Kravitz ever had to his situation.

“So, you’re undead,” the elf said. “Does that come with any presentable perks?”

Kravitz blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

She leaned back in her chair. “Can you go invisible? Dissolve into smoke? I’m looking for a show, here.”

Kravitz froze for a second. “Well, I can—” He paused and let his flesh melt off of him, revealing his skeletal form.

The elf whooped. “Yes! When can you start?”

“I—”

The elf stuck her hand over the table. “I’m Lup. Welcome aboard.”

* * *

Two weeks of hard advertising and work later, Lup had a show.

Aside from hiring her cast, she’d done nothing but paint signs, hand out fliers, and clean up the old museum into something presentable.

Barry helped when he wasn’t working. Together, they’d fixed the lights in the building and turned the floor into a stage. They had to paint, dust, sweep, and clean the grime off  the windows. They took the curtains out of their bedroom and repurposed them into a backdrop.

Lup found an old tapestry behind the stairs, but she couldn’t figure out a good place to put it. It was certainly too intricate to be thrown out, but she couldn’t figure out how it could be incorporated on stage without being clunky or tacky.

She’d shrugged and decided that it was fine where it was.

The stage itself hadn’t been too difficult to get in presentable condition. The only material she really had to buy was the paint, the rest of the work was mostly cleaning and tightening a few screws.

All that led up to right here, right now: the afternoon before their first show.

Lup stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom, staring at herself blankly. She sighed and looked back to the clothes hanging in the closet.

Nothing felt right.

She sighed and closed her eyes, reaching out to grab a shirt at random. She opened her eyes and deflated. It was another incredibly plain shirt. It wasn’t the kind of outfit she needed for a show so grand.

She didn’t have anything else that fit, so she huffed and threw the shirt on. At least it went with her floor-length skirt.

Once dressed, Lup found Barry.

“Ready to go, babe?” she said, hooking arms with him.

Barry grinned. “Almost.”

He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a simple gold necklace with a small charm of a bird hung on it.

Lup’s breath caught. “Holy shit. Did you—”

Barry’s eyes glinted. “Yeah. I’ve been saving for several months, now.”

Lup took the necklace gingerly and untangled her arm from Barry’s. She put it on, admiring how it contrasted against her dark clothes.

“Now I’m ready,” Barry said, offering Lup his arm again.

Lup looked up. “Let’s go.”

 

Walking down the street was a bit of a struggle; it was certainly busier than usual. Eventually, Lup and Barry were pushing through more of a crowd as opposed to a street simply filled with people.

It was only when they stood in front of the building that Lup realized that the crowd was a line.

A line for tickets to her show.

Lup spun around toward Barry.

“Can you hold down the fort here? Keep the cast together? For just—just for a minute,” Lup said, waving Barry toward the entrance.

“I mean, sure, but wh—”

Lup grinned and started walking backwards down the street. “I love you! I’ll be right back, I promise.”

She spun around and began running down the street, away from her show and toward the shop a couple blocks down the road.

Lup skipped at least two of the stairs in front, bounding toward the entrance. She threw open the doors and practically jumped inside.

The seamstress at the front desk jumped at her arrival. “Woah!” she exclaimed.

“Woah,” Lup gasped, turning in place as she looked around the room. Beautiful spools of cloth lined the walls, and mannequins displaying all different kinds of outfits were on display throughout the room

“Now, what would a nice elf like yourself be needing? You’re already dressed to the nines, my dear.”

Lup felt a grin spreading on her face. “Let’s make it a ten.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Twenty minutes later, Lup was strutting out of the shop, dressed in a blindingly bright red. The extravagant red cape flew behind her has she walked, contrasting brilliantly with her dark outfit and the golden necklace, with the bird that rested on her chest.

Lup marched past the crowd that had formed outside, and grinned to herself when people parted to allow her past. She swung the door open and stepped inside.

“Holy shit, Lup, how much did that cost?” Barry said.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, babe,” Lup said, stepping forward and linking arms with him. “And did you see the crowd we’ve got? Don’t worry about the cost.”

Barry opened his mouth to say something when Hurley ran over.

“Oh thank god, boss,” she said. “we’ve got three minutes ‘till showtime.”

Lup smiled and pulled back from Barry. She kissed him firmly on the lips. “Duty calls,” she said, untangling her arm from his.

Barry waved her off as Lup followed Hurley through the doorway and onto the main arena.

The lights were off and everything was silent.

Then everything flashed gold as the lights all came on at once. They immediately illuminated a flashy, colorful scene of performers posed together. Merle was standing on Magnus’s shoulders, and the two of them together were still shorter than Lucretia standing on her stilts, which were gracefully hidden under her extra-long pants. A few people were standing with their arms raised in the back. Kravitz was already in skeleton form, and Hurley and Davenport stood back-to-back, arms crossed.

Lup adjusted her hat and jumped into the light. “Let’s go!” she shouted, pointing at the group.

Immediately, everyone burst into action. Hurley jumped into the mini vehicle that they’d fixed up for her. A few acrobats flipped across the length of the stage. From atop Magnus, Merle popped his arm off, and tossed it across the stage. It high-fived Lucretia, who then caught it and tossed it back.

Everyone had sprung into their different acts, and Lup was there in the center of it all, directing the attention of the audience.

Everything flew past. The only thing Lup could hear was the cheers and laughter from the crowd, and when she looked out, she saw Barry cheering the loudest of all.

The crowd went wild when Kravitz swung from one side of the stage to the other, rematerializing his body as he let go and stuck his landing. The shouts of joy filled the stage when Magnus lifted Hurley in one arm and Davenport in the other. Everything was lit up, vivid in living color, and exhilarating.

Lup loved it.

The paper didn’t.

The review of her show was published the next day, and it was absolutely brutal. The paper called it a disgrace to theatre arts, and that it didn’t deserve a penny of publicity. Lup found out about it when Hurley showed it to her, silently backed by the rest of the group.

“Boss, did you see this?” Hurley said, handing the paper to Lup, folded so the theatre reviews were on the top. “We’re all talking about it.”

Lup took the paper from Hurley. She glanced at the title, and took a deep breath. Of course they judged it as if it was a piece of traditional theatre. Of course they wouldn’t like it. They missed the point.

She huffed and handed the paper to Hurley. “Spread the word—anybody who brings in a negative review gets their ticket 50% off.”

She jumped up and walked in front the group. “All press is good press. If they don’t like it, that’s their problem.”

And the next week, when they filled up twice as fast, Lup thought that was the end of it.

It was the end of it, at least until Magnus approached her before the show. “I’ve got a crowd that won’t go away,” he said, waving behind him.

Lup sighed. “I’ll handle it.”

She walked outside and was faced with an enormous group of people standing shoulder-to-shoulder alongside the ticket booth.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no more seats,” Lup said, raising her voice above the ruckus. “You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“We’re not here to see your freak show!” came a shout from the crowd. A roar of agreement rippled through the group.

“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to come,” Lup snapped, throwing her hands in the air.

“I still have to hear about it in the fucking paper,” a woman on the front of the crowd shouted, shaking a newspaper in Lup’s direction.

Lup waved her off. “Is it so hard to skip that section?”

The crowd roared. Different voices were yelling their individual protests, and the shouts clamored over each other, creating a wall of sound that blasted Lup in the face.

“Okay, okay!” Lup yelled, waving her hands to get the attention back on her. The sound hardly ebbed. “I’ll ask one more time.”

The shouts and jeers were still mounting. Lup dug her feet into the ground, and shouted something indistinct.

She an instinctive feeling tugged on the corner of her mind. It was a tiny bundle of something—not anger, not frustration—but something she’d never felt before. It felt bright and strong. She pulled on the instinct, and she immediately felt it unravel and flood her entire body.

She felt the feeling rush down her arms and into the palms of her hands, which now felt like they were moving through the fabric of reality as if it were a stream of water.

“Leave, before I make you,” she said, her hands alight with flame.

Immediately, the crowd reared back. Shouts of protest were now shouts of shock and fear. Lup took a single step forward, and that was it. People were moving in random directions, each person trying to leave as fast as they could. Lup stood there, the flames licking her hands harmlessly, as the crowd freaked and slowly cleared.

Lup stood in an empty street. She looked around for a moment, then nodded to herself.

Lup sighed, shook the flames off of her hands, and walked back inside.


End file.
